


The Sweetest Agony

by Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-24
Updated: 2009-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:52:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener/pseuds/Kleptomaniac_Can_Opener
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nighttime contemplation of the status quo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sweetest Agony

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Pokemon still belongs to Satoshi Tajiri.  
> 

On the surface it’s not a bad arrangement. Between his research and my training and battles, our schedules are more forgiving than most people would think. He comes to my house most nights, and we even go out a couple times a month. But under the surface... I wonder what he really thinks?

I hug him a little tighter, my arms around his waist and my chin on the back of his shoulder.

As we grew, he traded in his team of cheerleaders for a legion of beautiful assistants. There isn’t a Pokemon Researcher in the world who doesn’t envy the Roses of Ookido Laboratories. He always comes here smelling of their perfume, or their soap and shampoo. I try not to mind. We’re not even officially a couple.  
But it still hurts. I want him to be only mine. But that’s not possible, is it? His love is out of reach, just like how his friendship was always beyond my fingertips when we were kids.

“Sato? Are you awake?” His voice is groggy and rough from snoozing the last three hours.  
“Kinda.” I try not to sound like I’m lying. Hopefully he’s more asleep than awake. His hands cover mine, warm and too kind.  
“Are you okay?” I swallow, but my tongue feels like a thick slab of leather.  
“Yeah, why?”  
“You’re shaking.” I didn’t realize that I was and try to stop. I can’t say when it had started. Maybe when I caught a hint of that rosy perfume his blonde assistant is always wearing.

He turns in my arms, and suddenly I’m enveloped in his heat as he hugs me. “If you’re cold, I’ll hold you.” I bury my face against his neck and pull in a shaky breath.  
“Thanks.” Don’t let me go. It’s selfish, but don’t let go.  
“Mm.” He nuzzles my temple, I love when he does that. “Too bad I have to get up in the morning. I want to stay here like this.” The sweetest of painful stabs.  
“If only.” He drifts off again. I don’t think he heard me. That’s probably for the best. It would have just started a fight and he would have stormed off for a week or something. Again.

I snuggle against him and try to sleep, but at this point I don’t care if the Sandman ever comes. I want to remember the warmth from his arms.

It’s an agony I won’t live without.

**Author's Note:**

> [Want to stay updated on my art and stories?](http://dawneastpoint.deviantart.com/journal/Check-Here-for-my-Updates-638603365)  
>  It'll be two steps because I'm not allowed to mention my personal blog on here.


End file.
